This is another snippet of my play, Searching for Julie Wisch... which was performed at the Seattle Fringe Fest in 2002.
For the first scene, simply click back one entry. For the Prolog, follow the link there. If you haven't read those, you probably should first... it would make more sense that way.
INTERLUDE
As the lights dim, Ariadne EXITS and JULIE enters.
She moves around the stage, focused on the Narrator.
NARRATOR
My grandparents never moved from the house I grew up in. My family would return to that house to visit. I dont remember how I knew or when I found out, but Julie had been living two miles away the whole time.
(pause)
A mile could be infinity to an eight-year old, but I had two strong legs, which would get stronger every day. I had a brand new bicycle. And I had a very boring family. To a child of eight... So off I would go, time after time... to try and go home again.
(pause)
I would never make it. Reason is a terrible gift for a child and reason produced a million reasons not to walk up to her door. A million excuses to ride past, hoping, somehow, that the door would burst open... and the tumbling blond delight that was Julie Wisch, would rush to my arms.
(pause)
Of course, she never did. It's a pattern that carried into adulthood. You know adulthood. That's where the reassurance of a warm body comes equipped with emotional baggage poised to kill the unsuspecting traveler.
(pause)
As many times as we moved... as many times as I visited my grandparents... Julie stayed in the same house. I'd like to hope she was waiting for me to come home. But excuses make wishes that can't come true.
As the lights dim, JULIE turns on the TV Ariadne motioned to at the end of Scene One.
The Narrator sits, bathed in the dim light it provides.
Julie exits.
END INTERLUDE
For the first scene, simply click back one entry. For the Prolog, follow the link there. If you haven't read those, you probably should first... it would make more sense that way.
INTERLUDE
As the lights dim, Ariadne EXITS and JULIE enters.
She moves around the stage, focused on the Narrator.
NARRATOR
My grandparents never moved from the house I grew up in. My family would return to that house to visit. I dont remember how I knew or when I found out, but Julie had been living two miles away the whole time.
(pause)
A mile could be infinity to an eight-year old, but I had two strong legs, which would get stronger every day. I had a brand new bicycle. And I had a very boring family. To a child of eight... So off I would go, time after time... to try and go home again.
(pause)
I would never make it. Reason is a terrible gift for a child and reason produced a million reasons not to walk up to her door. A million excuses to ride past, hoping, somehow, that the door would burst open... and the tumbling blond delight that was Julie Wisch, would rush to my arms.
(pause)
Of course, she never did. It's a pattern that carried into adulthood. You know adulthood. That's where the reassurance of a warm body comes equipped with emotional baggage poised to kill the unsuspecting traveler.
(pause)
As many times as we moved... as many times as I visited my grandparents... Julie stayed in the same house. I'd like to hope she was waiting for me to come home. But excuses make wishes that can't come true.
As the lights dim, JULIE turns on the TV Ariadne motioned to at the end of Scene One.
The Narrator sits, bathed in the dim light it provides.
Julie exits.
END INTERLUDE
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
Also I noticed in your "what makes you sad" section that one of them is people who believe what the media is telling them. Damn I agree with this. I have friends I just can't talk to about anything political b/c they are glued to the O'Reilly Factor and hang on every word spoken to them. Keeping people in fear is what they are all about.
Well, thanks for coming by my journal come by anytime
~MG~